


heart to heart (soul to soul)

by Lesza



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, It was supposed to be short and sweet, accidentally written post-reveal, but angst sneaked in, occasional swear words, post 3x24, rip my fic virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesza/pseuds/Lesza
Summary: "He didn't give it a thought for the rest of the day, choosing to keep it carefully on the very edge of consciousness until the evening.Write to her. Remind her who you are.It wasn't such a bad idea, was it? Certainly couldn’t do much more damage than he did himself."Lucifer and Chloe deal with the revival in an unexpected way.





	heart to heart (soul to soul)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by amazing NotOneLine and mieczyslyds. They did awesome job. Any mistakes are the result of my stubbornness.
> 
> I want to dedicate this fic to Lola (@xlola95x on twitter). Our talks inspired this, darling. Love ya so much.
> 
> Enjoy!

 He wakes up with a start.

For a moment he simply lays there - chest heaving, wide eyes looking up at the ceiling, trying to come back from the nightmare. He doesn't remember what the dream was about, but he can easily guess. The sense of loss is still crushing him.

What has his life become now?

Dragging himself back to reality, he thinks about the oncoming day. Get up. Get dressed. Get drunk. Manage Lux. Manage life, despite that awful heaviness in his body. Not too much different from the nightmare then.

He gets up from the bed and starts his morning routine. Glass of whiskey first, to help kill the oh-so-bitter taste in his mouth. The rest passes in a haze, his body moving on autopilot, while his mind wanders elsewhere. The bitter taste keeps coming back so he keeps flushing it down.

This is his life now.

 

*****

 

"How are you feeling today?"

He looks up at Linda, wondering if he should grant her an answer. How does she _think_ he feels?

"Just _peachy,_ " he says, clearly sarcastic.

Linda doesn't look pissed at his remark, which is slightly disappointing. He prefers people to be pissed at him. Maybe he should tell her that.

"Did you get in contact with Chloe?"

And just like that his mind goes blank. Just fucking freezes. For a minute. Or for ten minutes, he isn't quite sure.

"She doesn't want to speak with me," he croaks out and bloody hell, is it hard to say.

"And have you reached out to her?" Linda asks. Her voice is awfully soft, in contrast to his gravely rough one.

"I tried to call her. I was at the precinct a few times. Had to give my statement. She... the Detective was uncomfortable with me there."

Well. _Uncomfortable_ is the understatement of the year. He kept eyeing her, he couldn't help himself - he hadn’t seen her in so long. But she avoided him like the plague, manoeuvring herself so she'd be as far from him as she could be, or simply removing herself from the room if possible. And when he tried to speak to her... she flinched at his voice.

Oh, look. The heaviness is climbing to his throat.

"I figured she needs time," he adds. And he believes it, has to believe it, because that's what he's been telling himself hour after hour, day after day.

Linda stared down at his hands. He looks at them too and notices how badly they are shaking. He reaches for his flask but remembers it's already empty. Maybe he should start to carry more than one.

"She _does_ need time, Lucifer, she really does. Coming to terms with all of this is hard. _Believe me,_ I should know." He looks at the doctor and sees her self-conscious smile. "And it has less to do with your identity, and more with the fact that Heaven and Hell are real. She didn't believe in God before, right?"

He shakes his head, thinking back to that conversation he and the Detective had not long after they first met. She didn't believe in fiery damnation. Wasn't afraid of the Devil. Wasn't afraid of _him_.

How things had changed.

"She's afraid of me now," Lucifer says, because he’d seen it. He saw it in the corner of her eyes when she avoided his sight. In her fast step when she tried to get away from him. In her flinch when he got too close.

Oh, he needed that drink so bad. Maybe he should keep a little stash of booze in Linda's office. Or maybe he should just leave.

"I'm sure she isn't afraid of you as much as she's afraid of what your existence means, Lucifer." _I know I was_ , came unspoken.

"But isn't it worse?," he cries, distressed. "Now she'll believe every word, every bloody falsehood there is about the Devil!"

"I'm quite sure she's smarter than that", Linda says and Lucifer felt the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks as he realizes that she has more faith in the Detective than he does. "But maybe you can remind her who she's dealing with."

He looks up, confused. Linda is smiling at him with soft expression, like she knows something he doesn't.

"But she won't talk to me," he points out.

"Yes, but maybe she'll read what you'll write."

 

*****

 

He didn't give it a thought for the rest of the day, choosing to keep it carefully on the very edge of consciousness until the evening.

_Write to her. Remind her who you are._

It wasn't such a bad idea, was it? Certainly couldn’t do much more damage than he did himself.

So he leans on the bar, takes out his phone and stares at it for like a half an hour. Thinks. Maybe if he writes to her, she'll think the Devil's breathing down her neck. Maybe she’d rather forget his existence. But maybe, _maybe_ things will get slightly better. He'll take that chance. At this point he'll take anything.

He types quickly and hits send, before he can convince himself otherwise. Gulping his drink down, he takes the refuge at the piano, but finds he can't focus on the music. 

 

_Lucifer [11:41PM]: good night Detective :)_

 

He keeps checking the phone, waiting anxiously. He has to remind himself that the Detective probably won't react, the same way she didn't answer his calls.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, he sees it.

She read it.

SHE READ IT.

She bloody read it and it isn't much but he'll take it and cherish it. It feels like getting a bit of himself back. He wants to scream and sob at the same time.

The heaviness in him gets a little bit lighter.

 

*****

 

“...Chloe? Chloe!”

She jumps, dropping her phone. The pens she knocked over scatter on her desk and a few heads turn to look at her, leaving her ears feeling hot. Dan jumps back, spooked by her reaction.

“ _Jesus_ , Chloe.” He says and she winces, because yeah, she gets that part of Lucifer's weirdness now. “Can you get any more tense?”

She collects the pens, not looking at her ex. She can feel her heart fluttering furiously in her ribcage.

“It's just… a lot happened, Dan,” she answers and immediately feels awful, because he gives her a sympathetic look like he understands but he _fucking doesn't_.

“Yes, it did. You know I'm here for you, right?” he smiles, clearly trying to comfort her, like she's the one who lost the significant other. Then his look slides to the empty chair on the other side of her desk and his face hardens.

Chloe takes a big breath. She knows what's coming.

“But there’s another person that should be here too,” Dan adds, the hate clear in his voice like a venom.

“I told you, me and L… Lucifer agreed that we both need time.” Well. It wasn’t a lie. Apart from the _agreed_ part. “They aren’t giving me any new cases anyway.”

Dan doesn't look convinced. It'd take a _miracle_ to convince him at this point and she has exactly zero energy to do so. So she lets him hate Lucifer because he needs someone to hate and Pierce isn't here anymore.

And it's easier. She makes a lot of easy decisions these days and she feels more and more terrible because of it.

“...-sn’t mean he can't show up. He's your partner, for fuck’s sake. You’re not listening to me, are you?”

She looks up, chastised, because no, she’s not. It's a good thing she's kind-of-but-not-exactly-suspended because her ability to focus is nonexistent.

“Sorry, Dan,” she says.

Dan waves her apology away.

“Just remember you have other friends, _Chloe_.” he says, stressing her name to make his point before walking away.

She watches him go and picks up her phone again to look at her messages.

She hadn’t talked to Lucifer since that awful day and she knew it was killing him, she just knew it. It was kind of obvious in a way he kept looking at her when she was in his sight range. It was obvious in the dozens of missed calls.

She can't think about it, but at the same time, she can't bring herself not to think about it either.

She looks at the messages. He wrote to her last night and then again this morning, and again when she was driving to work. Nothing much, nothing significant, but it made her feel things she was so desperately trying to avoid.

For a brief second she considers blocking him, but the phone buzzes in her hand, making her jump again, and another message pops out.

 

_Lucifer [3:16PM]: When lightning strikes the sea, why don't all the fish die?_

 

And she can't do that. Maybe she's not ready to face him yet, but she's definitely not ready to give him up.

It almost makes her smile.

 

*****

 

He wakes up tangled in the sheets again. He tries to escape them, but they tighten around him even more and he feels like he can’t breathe...

And then he stops, recognizing the darkness of his penthouse. He tries to cool down, tries not to think about the nightmare. His pillow is damp, just like his cheeks and _he_ _fucking hates it_ so much, it shakes him to the core. There's voice in his ear saying _monster monster monster_ and he almost _prays_ for it to stop.

Suddenly he grabs the phone from the nightstand, because he needs her. The dark voice sings songs in his head - _you can't message her you're not worthy stop bothering her_ \- but he doesn't listen to it. Linda said it was a good idea and he trusts his doctor.

Mind you, he can't write anything about why he can’t sleep at 3am, but he doesn't have to. A string of funny cat gifs it is. And each stupid message makes him remember her laugh, her golden hair and bright eyes. Both the darkness and the _voice_ are retreating, leaving him smiling at his phone.

 

*****

 

It carries on like this.

He wakes up and sends a greeting. He goes to sleep with _good night Detective_ , _sweet dreams Detective_ , _get some rest Detective_ as his last words. There's constant string of pointless messages coming from his phone and it's nothing he didn't do before (she told him once that if he intends to write to her all the time, then he needs to use normal words instead of emojis at least). But this time, it feels like a balm on his wounds.

He wonders how she feels.

He'd love to see her, talk to her, hold her in his arms for eternity. But if those little messages are all he can have, then so be it.

It's still more than he thinks he deserves, but he’ll take it as he takes everything she's willing to give him.

 

*****

  

_Lucifer [01:37PM]: ONE HUNDRED BUCKS THE POSTMAN DID IT_

_Lucifer [01:38PM]: THEY’RE EVIL_

_Lucifer [01:38PM]: ASK ANY DOG_

 

Chloe snorts, a stupid grin on her face, because there’s no postmen in this case. She briefly wonders how Lucifer knows she’s got something to work on now. Maybe it has something to do with her sudden return to the field. Or maybe he just heard about it from Ella. She knew they were in touch.

Speaking of...

“Awww, girl, I'm so happy!”

And suddenly Chloe is wrapped in the smaller arms of the forensic scientist. She maneuvers her arm, holding the phone away from the hug so it won’t be crushed between them.

“Why are you so happy?,” she asks when Ella untangles herself and she can breathe again.

"Because I see that you and Lucifer are sorting things out! I must tell you, I was worried for a moment there, when he became a no-show and you were clearly upset... but it looks better and better! I know how hard it is, talking about your issues, and I'm so proud of you!!"

Before Chloe can react in any way, she's attacked by Ella the octopus again. She briefly imagines Lucifer's reaction to two hugs in a row.

"What are you talking about?" she asks.

Ella takes a step back and pointedly looks at Chloe's phone then back at her.

"Well, it's obvious you guys talk!" she explains, looking pleased with herself. "I didn't mean to pry and Lucifer didn't tell me a thing, but you're always on your phone and you never did that before Chloe. It's cool, tho. I can see how happy it makes you." She smiles brightly, so proud she figured it all out.

And maybe she did? Maybe it was that simple?

“I’d love to see Lucifer around again,” Ella adds with a touch of nostalgia.

“Yeah, me too.” Chloe answers and realises how true her words are.

And suddenly she can’t finish her work fast enough. It's also _so_ typical that it takes so much longer to wrap the case up. It's been dark for hours before she can leave the precinct. She gets to her car as fast as possible and drives to Lux.

The closer she is, the lighter she feels. It's amazing, how a simple decision is letting her breathe again.

She hasn't been to Lux for so long, so when she enters the building, a sudden nervousness hits her. But Chloe's determined - she's on a mission and she can't let it stop her. After a quick chat with one of the bartenders she confirms that Lucifer is _probably_ upstairs.

She's in the elevator, halfway to the penthouse, when she hears him sing.

His voice is as rough as she never heard it. It keeps hitching and breaking and it's the most beautiful and saddest thing she’s ever heard. And yet the song is so perfect simply because it's imperfect.

Why exactly had it taken her so long?

She steps into the penthouse and drinks the view of his back hunched over the piano, his white shirt like a splash of light in the darkness. He doesn't realize that she's there, so she just stays in her place and listens for a moment.

Then she takes out her phone and taps the message.

His own mobile vibrates on the polished surface and he takes no time at all to snatch it. She waits, nerves knotting her stomach, and then he turns and looks at her...

He takes her breath away.

 

*****

 

He’s alone at the penthouse. The sun is going down, with its golden light escaping from the world. Lucifer watches from the balcony as the city goes black, while the streets remain alive. He feels... separated from it. Like he lost the connection to this place.

He’s entirely too nostalgic for his own good today, he thinks. Sending a quick message to the Detective, he takes refugee between now dark walls of his penthouse. The piano is calling to him.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been playing for - he usually has no idea when he’s this wrapped up in the music. Melodies are pouring from his fingers along with his emotions. He tries to sing, but his voice is acting out, cracking and turning rough.

His phone vibrates.

He grabs it in no time - he basically lives glued to it these days. At least eighty percent of his world is reduced to this damn device. He unlocks it and stares at the screen with disbelief. 

 

_Chloe [11:30PM]: I like this song_

 

His mind goes blank. For the longest of moments he looks at her message, so dumbfounded that he feels like someone smashed his head against a wall, repeatedly. And then it clicks. He turns and looks at the elevator. 

"Chloe," he gasps.

Because she’s standing there. With her hair loose, a little shy smile on her perfect lips, she’s here and _she is looking at him and_ -

It's like the whole world is alight. She shines in the dark of his house. She's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Ever.

How did he manage to live without her?

"Can I join you?," she asks with a small voice, gesturing at the piano. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to figure out what she means because he’s focused on her hand and not her words. So when he does, he almost falls off the bench, trying to make a room for her.

Absolutely embarrassing. That's who he is.

But he’s also the most happy Devil in the world, because she _is here_.

Chloe comes closer. He tenses against his better judgement, part of him expecting for her to hesitate and distance herself, but it doesn’t happen. She sits down beside him, her warmth and smell wrapping around him and he forgets how to breathe. He missed it so fucking much.

He looks down at her and notices she's looking at him already. There's something in her bright eyes that he can't recognise but it makes his heart clench even more. So he looks away, blinking down the burning feeling in his eyes and returns to the song interrupted. He can't sing for the life of him now, not when she's beside him and their arms are almost touching. But he can play.

So he does. The sweet melody is dancing around them, making his chest swell.

It makes her tremble, he can feel it. He looks at her again, worried he somehow broke _it broke again, broke everything_ and sees the tears on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she blurts out and laughs through a sob. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

And he can't have it, can he? So he stops playing and places one of his hands on her clenched fists.

"It's okay," he says and hopes that he’s saying the right words. "You're here now, it's all okay."

She looks at him like he promised her the sun and the moon.

"We'll be good?" she asks and he'll do everything to keep her smiling like this.

"Yes. We will be," he promises.


End file.
